Operating in virtual anonymity, Appolinaria Lovegood are tangentially connected to a local arts organization known as Maloslovie, a Russian term suggesting "little speech," wanton reticence, or the absence of any desire to talk - whatsoever. This faceless, tight-lipped collective holds true to a ser...
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Operating in virtual anonymity, Appolinaria Lovegood are tangentially connected to a local arts organization known as Maloslovie, a Russian term suggesting "little speech," wanton reticence, or the absence of any desire to talk - whatsoever. This faceless, tight-lipped collective holds true to a series of thematic emphases listed on one of their web portals. A creative enterprise suitable for Samara should apparently emphasize: "Dirt, Noise, Recycled Paper, and Trash." The insignificant contents of a trash heap are used to frame and then define an entire city.
The uneasy ambient fabrics of Appolinaria Lovegood, interwoven with both folk laments and industrial clamor, build a scary portrait of hidden, civic truths in Samara. Talking about actuality is apparently pointless; hence the grim reticence of Maloslovie. Verity lies beyond the pages of a dictionary: it lingers either in the vague, mournful sounds of a wandering spirit, or - in the case of J Milto - among the barely visible specks of a miniature world. Genuine insight - as the noun suggests! - takes a lot of focused effort. The results may not be heartening.
One of the more gothic Appolinaria Lovegood tracks of late clearly samples the screenplay of a 2009 Russian feature film by Vassily Sigarev: "Volchok" (or "Wolf Cub" in translation). Here the failures of modern life - and a contemporary mother - turn the experiences of a tiny girl into something disconcertingly feral. A youngster torn from normal family life exists more as a wolf cub than as a healthy member of future society. In a realm devoid of trust and charity, human nature quickly regresses. Some of the lines sampled by Appolinaria Lovegood include the following: "I used to look at photographs of dead people... I liked looking at women, dressed in black and crying [at funerals]. I liked the sound of earth, falling into the grave. And I liked going to those graves after everybody had left..."
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